


Petunia Potter's Monster

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Series: The Master of Death, Eldritch Abomination [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death in a Non-Canonical Way, Dimensional Travel, Eldritch Abomination, Gen, Horror, Master of Death, Parallel Universes, Second Sight - Freeform, This world has magic but not wizard magic, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 08:51:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7795306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Petunia looked at the monster, she thought it was her Daddy.</p>
<p>He had the same wild black hair, and a very similar face – but his eyes were bright green, just like Petunia’s Mummy’s. Petunia blinked, and looked again, and this time, it was as though she was seeing what was really there. Petunia could still see the man who looked like her Daddy, but overlaid was something terrible, with manifold tentacles and toothy mouths and great, sinister eyes that hurt even to look at. It became apparent in an instant that Petunia was not looking at a man, but a monster.</p>
<p>Terrified, she began to scream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Petunia Potter's Monster

** Petunia Potter’s Monster **

The first time Petunia looked at the monster, she thought it was her Daddy.

He had the same wild black hair, and a very similar face – but his eyes were bright green, just like Petunia’s Mummy’s. Petunia blinked, and looked again, and this time, it was as though she was seeing what was really there. Petunia could still see the man who looked like her Daddy, but overlaid was something terrible, with manifold tentacles and toothy mouths and great, sinister eyes that hurt even to look at. It became apparent in an instant that Petunia was not looking at a man, but a monster.

Terrified, she began to scream.

“Hey, no, don’t do that,” said the monster, its human face looking startled, while the tentacles waved around. “There’s no need to–”

“PETUNIA!” Daddy’s voice came from the house, filled with panic.

“Oh, bugger,” said the monster, and pulled the hood of its silver cloak over its head. Its human form vanished, leaving only the tentacled horror.

Petunia didn’t stop screaming, even when her Daddy came pounding down the garden path and dropped to his knees beside her, demanding to know if she was okay. Petunia hid her face in his shirt, and squeezed her eyes shut so that she couldn’t see the monster, and only then stopped screaming.

“Petunia, what is it?” Daddy demanded, his voice frantic. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Petunia shook her head, her eyes still squeezed shut.  Daddy wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

“Baby girl, tell me what’s wrong.”

Petunia took a great gulp of air, then another. She felt safer with her Daddy’s arms around her. She turned her head slightly, and cracked one eye open.

The monster was still there, exactly where it had been when Petunia started screaming. Petunia almost started screaming again.

“You’re shaking,” said Daddy. “It’s alright, you’re safe. Tell Daddy what’s wrong.”

Petunia raised one trembling arm and pointed.

“Daddy, there’s a _monster!_ ”

“What?” said Daddy. He looked in the direction of Petunia’s pointed finger, and his expression remained uncomprehending. “Where?” 

His eyes passed right over the spot where the monster’s towering form lurked.

“Right _there_ , Daddy!” Petunia told him, unable to help the note of hysteria in her tone. “Can’t you see it?”

“Tuna-fish, there aren’t any monsters,” Daddy said in a soothing voice, the kind of voice he used when he thought Petunia was being scared of nothing. Mummy had never used that voice. Mummy had always taken Petunia seriously.

“But there _is!_ It’s got tentacles and teeth and everything!”

“Come on,” said Daddy, lifting Petunia up as he got to his feet. “Let’s go inside, away from any monsters, okay?” He rubbed circles on Petunia’s back as he began carrying her back up to the house.

Petunia’s eyes remained glued to the monster all the way up the garden path. Only when Daddy stepped inside, and there were walls and a closed door between her and the monster did Petunia relax slightly.

“We alright now?” Daddy asked, putting Petunia down. “No more monsters?”

Petunia looked up into his face, to see that he was wearing a slight smile. Petunia thought, _He doesn’t believe me._

“Mummy would have believed me,” Petunia snapped, resentment thick in her voice, and saw Daddy’s expression change.

“Tuna-fish–”

But Petunia had turned and was already running for the stairs, putting as much space between her and the monster as possible. Upstairs, she went into her bedroom, straight to the trinket box Auntie Tuney had given her for her last birthday, and opened it. Her mother’s rosary was there as Petunia had expected, safe in its little pouch, and Petunia took it out and pulled the long loop of the rosary over her head. Then she climbed under the bed where hopefully the monster wouldn’t think to look for her.

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later Daddy’s voice said, “Petunia?” his tone all soft and careful.

“Shh,” Petunia hissed.

“Wait, are you–” Daddy knelt next to the bed, and a moment later his bewildered face appeared beside Petunia’s. “Petunia, what are you doing?”

“Hiding from the monster,” Petunia said. Her tone said, _obviously._

Daddy sighed.

“Tuna-fish, can you please come out from under the bed? I promise, the monster isn’t going to get you while I’m here.”

Petunia thought that one over, and decided that he was probably correct. Daddy was a policeman, which meant that he knew how to deal with bad guys, and surely a monster was just another type of bad guy? Even if Daddy couldn’t see it, surely he would notice if the monster tried to carry her away.

Grudgingly, Petunia crawled out from under the bed.

“Thank you,” said Daddy, straightening, and groaned, putting a hand to his back. “Ow. I’m too old for this, honestly.”

Petunia paid no notice, crawling over to the window and peering just over the edge of the windowsill, into the garden. 

The monster was gone. Petunia heaved a sigh of relief.

“I see you’re wearing your mother’s rosary,” said Daddy, and Petunia looked around to see him wearing the sad face. He wore the sad face a lot, usually because he was thinking of how much he missed Mummy, Petunia knew. 

“It’s to keep the monster away,” Petunia explained. “It’s holy. Mummy said so. She had it blessed and everything.”

Mummy had told her so one day, when Petunia had been admiring the necklace.

“It will keep away magic and bad things,” Mummy had said, putting the rosary in Petunia’s hand and curling her fingers around it. “If anything bad ever comes after you – something that isn’t a person – you go and get the rosary, okay, baby?”

Petunia hadn’t ever forgotten.

Daddy looked a little surprised at Petunia’s words.

“Did she? Your mother never told me that.”

Petunia said nothing, just clutched the rosary around her neck. Daddy sighed again, his face falling back into sad lines.

“Tuna-fish, I know you miss your mother a lot.” He paused for a moment, but Petunia still said nothing, and Daddy went on. “I can’t be like your mother, and sometimes you resent me for that. But I’m doing my best, okay? And I promise, if I ever saw a monster coming after you, I would do everything to protect you.”

“Mummy would have known how to make the monster go away,” said Petunia, because that was a fact. Mummy knew lots of things, about magic and monsters and things that most people didn’t believe in, things she never talked to Daddy about.

“Is the monster still there?” Daddy asked. Petunia shook her head.

“It went away.”

“Well, maybe it didn’t mean any harm,” Daddy suggested. “Maybe it was a friendly monster, and it didn’t mean to scare you. Like the monsters on Sesame Street.”

Petunia frowned.

“But this was a _scary_ monster,” she said, unable to articulate the bone-deep, instinctive terror that had crashed over her at the sight of its writhing appendages and many, many teeth. It was nothing like the cuddly monsters on Sesame Street.

“Well, it probably can’t help that. I tell you what: if you see the monster again, hold onto your mother’s rosary to keep you safe, and ask the monster’s name. Maybe all it wants is to say hello.”

Petunia considered that. Her Mummy had told her once that names had power, and if you knew a magical being’s name, you held power over it. Maybe, if she asked the monster’s name, that would be enough to give her the power to stop it from coming after her. 

If nothing else, the rosary should keep her safe.

“Okay,” Petunia agreed, and her Daddy smiled. 

“Good girl,” he said, and ruffled her hair.

* * *

The next day, the monster was back.

Petunia had reluctantly stepped outside, at her father’s urging – “I’m sure the monster won’t be out there, and if it is, just remember what I told you,” he’d said – and there the monster was, sitting on the brick wall that divided Petunia’s garden from the neighbour’s, wearing the silver cloak with the hood down and looking at Petunia with the green eyes that were so much like Mummy’s, while the overlay of what it _really_ looked like waved its tentacles in the air.

For a moment Petunia was rooted to the spot with fear – but she clutched at Mummy’s rosary, and took courage from that. Remembering Daddy’s advice, she took a deep breath, and said in a wavering voice, “Hello.”

The monster’s human face smiled. It still looked remarkably like Daddy.

“Hello,” it said back, and there was nothing in its voice that sounded threatening.

“What’s your name?” Petunia asked, still clutching at the rosary around her neck. “Are you a friendly monster, or a bad monster?”

The monster considered the question.

“My name is the Master of Death,” it said at last, which as names went, was as scary as the monster looked. “But you can call me Harry, if you want. And I’m mostly a friendly monster, really.”

Harry? That was a much more reassuring name than the Master of Death. But–

“ _Mostly?”_ Petunia squeaked. The monster named Harry nodded thoughtfully.

“I don’t like bad people,” he said. “But if you’re not a bad person, then I’m friendly enough, honestly.”

Petunia only stared, clutching at her Mummy’s rosary, and didn’t answer.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” said Harry. His human face smiled gently. “I just wanted to see that you and your family were okay. That’s all.”

Petunia swallowed.

“Why?” she asked, and this time her voice didn’t waver.

The monster’s face turned sad, and his eyes were so much like Mummy’s in that moment that Petunia had to glance away, her own eyes prickling.

“Because we’re family,” Harry said simply. “Well. We’re not directly related, but we’re family all the same. And I always try to look after family.”

Petunia swallowed again.

“Really?” she asked, because the idea of a monster trying to look after her family was… definitely a strange one. But the monster – Harry – seemed sincere, and Petunia was good at telling when people were lying to her – even when the people were monsters, she thought.

A flare of resentment made itself known, and Petunia asked, “Where were you when Mummy died, then?”

Harry’s expression changed.

“Your mother is dead?” he asked. “Lily Potter?” He said it like he honestly hadn’t known what had happened.

The weight of Mummy’s loss in that moment was so heavy that Petunia could hardly breathe. She nodded mutely, and tried to find the words.

“The other policemen – the ones who came to the house – they said that Mu-Mummy was attacked by s-some k-kind of animal,” Petunia managed to say, stammering over the words. She put a hand to her throat, remembering Aunt Tuney’s angry words after she’d gone with Daddy to make sure that it was really Mummy who was dead.

_ “My sister’s throat was torn out, and there’s nothing you can do to catch whatever did it!?” _

Neither Daddy nor Aunt Tuney had noticed her standing in the doorway, and Petunia had slipped away, after a moment of paralysed horror, not wanting to hear any more. But the image Aunt Tuney’s words had given her haunted her brain in quiet moments, and appeared in her nightmares… 

“Show me,” said Harry.

Harry was still looking into Petunia’s eyes, and a peculiar thing happened then. It felt like someone was turning a page in Petunia’s mind, as though her mind was a book, turning the pages back until they reached the moment of Aunt Tuney’s furious shriek. There the phantom hand stopped turning, and lingered on the memory for a moment. Then the strange sensation was gone.

Petunia blinked, and when she looked at Harry again, his human expression had darkened, and the tentacles overlaid were waving angrily.

“I’m sorry,” said Harry. “I was on another world when your mother was killed. I promise, if I had been here, I would have done my best to stop whatever hurt her.”

Petunia looked at him, and somehow, she believed every word. Maybe it was the look in Harry’s human eyes, or maybe it was the way the air around them prickled, the way it did before a thunderstorm. But Petunia knew that Harry meant exactly what he’d said.

“Can you find whatever did it?” Petunia asked.

“Maybe,” said Harry slowly. “Your name’s Petunia, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.” Petunia stiffened, immediately on her guard.

Harry noticed, and tried to look reassuring. Well, his human form did. His monster form mostly stopped waving its tentacles around quite so angrily.

“It’s alright, I’m not going to use it against you. Family, remember?” he said. “Petunia, did your Mum act worried or afraid, in the days before she died?”

Petunia sucked in a breath.

“How do you know that?”

Not even Daddy had noticed, too busy being off at work. Aunt Tuney probably would have have noticed, but Mummy hadn’t visited Autn Tuney for a while.

“Just a hunch,” said Harry. “That rosary of yours is giving off enough power to keep away most dark creatures and things of ill-intent, and your house is warded up to high heaven. Wizards might not exist in this world, but I’m guessing your Mum was pretty magical – and pretty scared.”

Petunia bit her lip.

“Do you think – do you think something magical came after her?”

“You’re a bright one, aren’t you?” said Harry. “The thing is, Petunia, most people can’t see me, the way you can – not the real me. And the ones that do… well, the human brain isn’t normally built to take the sight of an Outsider’s true form. But somehow, you’re fine. Which means that either you came by the talent naturally, and inherited it from your Mum, or else someone did something magical to make you that way.”

“Oh,” said Petunia. Then: “Looking at you does make my head hurt, a bit.”

“But you can still do it,” said Harry, looking down at her – in both his human form and his monster one. Dozens of eyes were fixed on Petunia. It was disconcerting. “Most people… well, bad things happen to them if they see me for what I really am.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Harry’s human face looked pensive. “There’s a mystery here, but I’m not really of the disposition to unravel it the usual way. So let’s go for the Gordian Knot approach, shall we, and cut the problem in half.”

As Petunia watched, Harry pulled a small black stone out of his pocket, and turned it over three times.

And suddenly, Petunia’s Mummy was standing next to them. A little pale and insubstantial around the edges, not quite real, but _there_.

Petunia let out a strangled cry, and rushed into her Mummy’s arms. There was a chilly, ghostly pressure as Mummy hugged Petunia close, and Petunia closed her eyes and _clung_ as she smelled the familiar scent of Mummy’s perfume – so very faint, but there all the same.

Petunia didn’t know how long they stood like that, Mummy with her arms wrapped around Petunia while Petunia sobbed so hard she could barely breathe, but finally someone cleared their throat and Harry’s voice said, apologetically, “I hate to interrupt, but there is the issue of who killed you, Mrs Potter.”

Petunia turned her tear-streaked face towards Harry; Mummy raised her head, and looked at Harry as though noticing him for the first time.

“Master of Death,” said Mummy, and her voice was wispy and echo-y and not quite there. “Please, protect my baby. Protect Petunia.” 

The desperate, frantic fear in Mummy’s voice made Petunia hold onto Mummy even more, but she looked towards Harry to see how he responded.

Harry’s expression was… simultaneously sympathetic and aloof, as though he cared about Mummy’s feelings, but distantly. It was a strange, inhuman expression, and if Petunia had needed reminding that he was really a monster, that would have done it.

“Tell me,” said Harry. “What hunted you, Mrs Potter?”

Mummy put a hand to her mouth, choking back a sob of her own. Her grip on Petunia tightened almost to the point of pain.

“It was the Vampire Court,” she said, and her voice was filled with bitter anguish. “I… I made a deal with them, when I was young and foolish. They would grant me some of their power, but in return…”

“What did you do, Lily?” Harry’s voice was gentle, but commanded an answer.

Petunia had never known, before, what shame looked like on Mummy’s face. But as Mummy haltingly answered Harry, the words spilling out of her as though against her will, Petunia found out.

“The deal was that my first-born daughter would inherit the full powers of the Court and become their next Queen. I didn’t… I didn’t take it seriously, not really. I thought I’d simply never marry or have children. But then I met James… and… so then I was on birth control, and I thought that would be enough, but then…”

“The birth control failed.”

“Yes,” said Mummy, and her eyes were filled with tears. “Oh, Petunia, I’m so sorry.”

“They couldn’t find her, could they?” asked Harry.

Mummy shook her head.

“No. But they could track me, because of the deal… I knew they were following me that day, and so I didn’t go to pick Petunia up from nursery school, the way I was supposed to. Instead I went out to the park, alone, and waited…” Mummy’s voice trailed off for a moment. “When I wouldn’t tell their representative where she was, they…”

“It’s alright. You’ve told me enough,” said Harry, his voice gentle.

Mummy fell silent, and held Petunia close. 

“I promise that your daughter will not become the new Queen,” said Harry, and there was something in his voice that made Petunia shiver, a funny feeling crawling up her spine. “I am well-aware of what it means, to become such an entity. It is not something that should ever be thrust upon a child – but I suspect that the vampires will not wait for her to grow up.”

“No,” said Mummy. “They won’t.” Her grip on Petunia tightened again. “Do I have your word, Master of Death?”

Harry looked Mummy right in the eye, and said, “You do, Lily Potter. Return to your rest in peace.”

Mummy turned always from him then, her hands going to Petunia’s shoulders as she crouched down, bringing herself to Petunia’s eye-level.

“Baby, I have to go,” she said, and her eyes were terribly sad. “But never forget that I love you, and that I did everything I could to protect you.”

“No!” Petunia protested, clutching at her mother’s hands. “You can’t go! Mummy–”

But abruptly Petunia was clutching at empty air. Her Mummy was gone.

Petunia collapsed to her knees. She didn’t move as Harry scooped her into his arms and sat down with her in his lap, murmuring soothing things. Petunia just cried.

“I’m sorry,” said Harry. “But your mother couldn’t stay, Petunia. It hurts the dead very much to stay in the world of the living. And you wouldn’t want your mother to be in pain, would you?”

Petunia didn’t answer. Harry sighed, and stroked her hair, just the way Mummy used to when Petunia was upset, and the comparison was so strong that Petunia cried all the harder.

Petunia heard the back door slide open, and Harry looked up, his human form winking out of sight.

“Damn,” he murmured, and lifted Petunia to her feet. “Up you get, Petunia.”

Petunia promptly sat down again, on the soft, damp grass, and continued to cry. There was the sound of footsteps on the garden path, and then –

“Oh, Tuna-fish,” said Daddy’s voice, and Petunia was picked up and hugged. “Did you hurt yourself?”

Petunia shook her head.

“I want Mummy back,” she said, and there was a sudden hitch in Daddy’s breathing. He said nothing for a moment.

“I want her back too, baby,” he said, and his voice was clogged with tears, just like Petunia’s.

Petunia hung on to her Daddy, and turned her head as there was a quiet _pop_ , looking towards the sound.

There was nothing there – Harry had vanished into thin air, tentacles and all. With a sudden rush of bitterness, Petunia hoped he never came back.

It wasn’t fair, to give Petunia her Mummy back, and then just take her away again. It just wasn’t _fair_.

Her heart aching, Petunia closed her eyes, and let her Daddy hold her close.

* * *

That night, Petunia woke suddenly, with the conviction that something was very, very wrong.

She lay in bed, listening to the silence, wondering if the night had always been so still. Her window was open slightly, letting in some of the warm summer air, but there was no noise on the breeze. Not even the distant sound of traffic.

Petunia sat up, and swung her legs out of bed. She reached for the rosary on her bedside table, and slid it over her head. Then she crept towards the window, and peered over the edge of the window-sill.

There were no stars in the sky, and no moon. Only darkness.

The only light outside came from next door’s windows – they liked to watch TV late at night – and Petunia could see dark shapes at the bottom of the garden where there should have been none, tall dark shapes that were almost human, but not quite.

Petunia crawled back from the window and under the bed, her heart hammering. All of her hair was standing on end, and she was desperately afraid of whatever was standing at the bottom of her garden.

She clutched her Mummy’s rosary tightly, and wondered if she was imagining the faint glow it seemed to give off.

She closed her eyes, and whispered, “Harry, I need you.”

There was only silence in reply. Still, deathly silence, as unnatural as the starless sky outside.

Petunia remembered then that Harry wasn’t the first name her monster had given her, and amended her plea for help.

“Master of Death,” she said, concentrating on Harry as hard as she could. “Please help me.”

There was a faint _pop,_ and then there were two booted feet inches in front of Petunia’s face. Petunia stifled a scream.

The booted feet shifted, and someone knelt by the bed. Petunia stayed very still.

“ _Lumos_ ,” a voice whispered, and light filled the room – enough light for Petunia to see the silvery cloak pooled around the person’s knees.

“It’s alright,” said Harry, very quietly. “You can come out, Petunia.”

Petunia scrambled out from under the bed, straight into the embrace of multiple tentacles that shouldn’t have been able to fit into the small room but somehow did, as well as into Harry’s human arms. It was far less frightening than it should have been; instead of being afraid, all Petunia could think was, _Harry will keep me safe. He promised Mummy_. 

Harry stood, still holding Petunia in his arms, and moved to the window. Petunia watched his human face, and saw his gaze go unerringly to the place at the far end of the garden where the dark shapes stood.

She saw Harry’s face darken, and the tentacles overlaying his human form rise up in fury. The air around them crackled.

“Well,” said Harry. “Let’s go see what they want, shall we?” Transferring Petunia to one arm, and holding up the other in front of him – the one carrying the stick that was giving off light – he turned, and – 

It felt like Petunia was being squeezed through a straw, or flattened by a very soft but heavy mattress, or something similar – and then, as she gasped at the sensation, she realised that they were standing at the bottom of the garden. She turned her head in the direction Harry was looking, filled with dread at what she was about to see.

There were three people standing at the bottom of the garden, still like statues – at least, they looked like people, at first glance. But their faces were pale and their eyes gleamed in the sudden light from Harry’s stick, and there was something wrong about the shape of their mouths.

As one, the eyes of the people-that-weren’t people went to Petunia, and they smiled. Petunia saw, then, why their mouths were all wrong: their teeth didn’t sit like human teeth, too sharp and too long and too pointed. Petunia gasped, and hid her face in Harry’s chest.

“I’m guessing you’re the ones who killed Lily Potter,” said Harry, his voice perfectly cool and even. 

“You guess right,” said one of the not-people – the vampires. Even the way it spoke was wrong, around the sharp teeth and the strange shape of its mouth. “Give us the child. She is ours.”

“Here’s the thing,” said Harry, never letting go of Petunia. “You made a mistake. You didn’t know you were making it, and there was no way you could have possibly been warned, but it was a mistake all the same. See,” said Harry, as his human form unravelled into the form that was huge and unearthly and eldritch, “ **Lily Potter was my family**.” His last words were spoken by dozens of mouths, the sound resonating in the air in a way that was impossible for a human voice.

Petunia saw the vampires’ gleaming eyes widen, their mouths go slack with terror, and as one they turned and tried to run, almost too fast for Petunia to see – but tentacles whipped out and grabbed the fleeing vampires, and dragged them – shrieking in high, inhuman voices – into the nearest gaping maws. The serrated teeth rotated, and Petunia closed her eyes for a minute so that she didn’t have to see what happened next. There was a horrible crunching, wet sound.

Then there was silence, but for fast, panicky breathing, and Petunia opened her eyes again, to see Harry dangling the last vampire upside-down with a tentacle so that the vampire’s upside-down face was level with the nearest giant green eye. It was the vampire that Petunia could hear breathing, quick and shallow as it was confronted with a sight far more monstrous than itself.

“ **Tell your Court,** ” said Harry, with his dozens of mouths, “ **that the Master of Death is coming for you – all of you. Now _leave_.** ” And Harry let the vampire go, watched with his many eyes as it ran, leaping the garden wall in a single bound and disappearing into the night without a single glance back in the direction it had come.

Petunia could hear music and voices drifting from the neighbour’s open windows, and the sound of traffic on the summer breeze. She looked up, and the stars and the moon were there, exactly as they’d always been.

“Come along,” said Harry, and Petunia realised that his human form had returned again when she wasn’t paying attention, and the monster form was once again a sight that only she could see. “Let’s get you back to bed before your Dad notices you’re gone.”

He turned on his heel, and there was the sucked-through-a-straw feeling again, and then they were back in Petunia’s bedroom.

“ _Nox_ ,” Harry whispered, and the light at the end of his stick went out, leaving them standing there in the moonlight shining through the bedroom window. 

“Is that a magic wand?” Petunia asked under her breath, as Harry lowered her into bed. Harry’s human face smiled a little.

“It is,” said Harry, and he pulled Mummy’s rosary over Petunia’s head, placing it back on the bedside table. “You did a good thing, calling for me. And you were very brave, just now.”

“Are you a fairy godfather?” Petunia asked, as Harry tucked her in under the bed covers. 

Harry sniggered a bit, a little too loudly in the quiet of Petunia’s bedroom.

“I suppose so, where you’re concerned. I don’t grant wishes, though, so don’t go getting any grand ideas.”

“That means I have two godfathers,” said Petunia thoughtfully. “Uncle Sirius isn’t a _fairy_ godfather, though.”

“More like a dogfather,” said Harry, and grinned when Petunia sent him a puzzled look. “Sorry. It’s… difficult to explain. Only, if your godfather _was_ magical, I bet he’d turn into a dog. A big black, friendly one.”

Petunia giggled slightly at the thought of her boisterous Uncle Sirius turning into a dog. Then she yawned.

“Go to sleep,” said Harry. “I’ll take care of the vampires. But make sure you take your rosary with you everywhere you go, alright? And if anything comes after you, call for me.”

“Okay,” said Petunia. Now that everything was over, and she was no longer afraid, she found herself feeling very sleepy. She tried to stay awake. “You know, you’re really a very nice monster.”

“Thank you,” Harry said gravely, and smoothed the hair away from her face. “Good night, Petunia.”

“Night,” Petunia said, with another yawn, and slipped away into sleep before she could say anything else.

* * *

The next day was Monday, which meant nursery school. To Petunia’s surprise, it wasn’t Daddy who came to pick her up at the end of the day, but Auntie Tuney.

“But Auntie Tuney, why isn’t Daddy here?” she asked, holding tight to Auntie Tuney’s hand as they walked back to the car.

“Petunia! Petunia!” Dudley yelled from the back seat, waving through the window. Petunia waved back, as Auntie Tuney picked her up and buckled her into the booster seat next to Dudley’s.

Auntie Tuney’s lips thinned.

“Your Daddy had a case at work, darling,” was all she said, and shut the car door, walking around to the driver’s side door and getting into the car.

Petunia was silent as Auntie Tuney started the car, listening with half an ear as Dudley told her all about his day making spiders from egg-cartons and pipe-cleaners during craft time.

Auntie Tuney’s face in the car’s rear-view mirror was drawn and tired, and Petunia wondered if she missed Mummy as much as Petunia did.

When they got to Auntie Tuney and Dudley’s house Auntie Tuney unbuckled Petunia and Dudley from their booster seats and ushered them inside.

“Go upstairs and play in Dudley’s room, and Dudley, remember to _share_ ,” said Auntie Tuney. 

“Sharing is caring!” said Dudley.

“That’s right,” said Auntie Tuney. “Now–”

But Petunia tugged on Aunt Tuney’s skirt, and when Aunt Tuney looked down at her, said, “Auntie Tuney, vampires tried to steal me last night.”

“ _What?_ ” Aunt Tuney said sharply, her face turning white. She put out a hand to the wall as though to brace herself.

“Real vampires?” Dudley asked, his eyes widening. “Cool!”

“Dudley, be quiet,” Aunt Tuney said, her eyes still on Petunia. “Petunia, are you _sure?”_

Petunia nodded.

“Their skin was really white and their eyes were all shiny, and their mouths were all wrong,” she said, and Auntie Tuney paled even further. “But it’s okay. My monster friend killed them.”

“Your – monster friend?” Auntie Tuney said faintly.

Petunia nodded, and shouted, “Master of Death!”

There was a moment’s expectant silence, then a quiet _pop_ , and suddenly Petunia, Dudley, and Aunt Tuney were joined by a silver-cloaked figure that was overlaid with a monstrous one, at least to Petunia’s eyes.

Auntie Tuney made a strangled sound and grabbed Petunia and Dudley, pushing them behind her.

“Ow, Mummy!” Dudley protested; but Aunt Tuney’s eyes were glued to Harry.

“Ah,” said Harry, soft and rueful, and lowered his magic wand. “My apologies. The last time Petunia called on me it was to deal with a group of vampires, and I was expecting something similar.”

“What – _what_ are you?” Aunt Tuney managed to ask, her voice trembling. Petunia patted her arm.

“It’s okay, Auntie Tuney. Harry is a _friendly_ monster.”

Then, just to prove to Auntie Tuney that there was nothing to fear, she darted around her aunt, dodging Auntie Tuney’s attempt to grab her, and flung her arms around Harry’s human legs in a hug.

Harry looked down, his face still hidden by the hood of his cloak, and he ruffled her hair.

“You do get attached quickly, don’t you?” He looked back up at Auntie Tuney. “Relax. You’re all family, and I don’t hurt family.” There was a funny edge to his voice.

“F-family?” Auntie Tuney repeated. 

Harry pulled back his hood, and Auntie Tuney gasped.

“My name was once Harry James Potter,” said Harry. “In another world, my parents were Lily and James Potter. So you see, I have no reason to wish your family harm, and every reason to exact vengeance against those who killed your sister, and who would harm your niece.”

Auntie Tuney’s legs gave out. But Harry waved his wand, and before Auntie Tuney hit the floor there was suddenly a plump armchair in the way. Auntie Tuney fell into it, then stared down at it with an astonished expression.

Dudley squealed in delight and clapped.

“Make me a chair! Make me a chair!” 

Harry looked at him. 

“What’s the magic word?” Harry asked, and the funny edge was back in his voice.

“Please?” Dudley guessed, and Harry’s eyebrows rose a little.

“Who knew you could have manners at this age?” Harry asked, and waved his wand again. This time a second chair appeared – a miniature version of the one he had made for Auntie Tuney, perfectly sized for Dudley. Dudley immediately sat in it, looking delighted.

“Say thank you,” Petunia reminded him, because Auntie Tuney seemed to have forgotten.

“Thank you!” Dudley bounced up and down a bit in his chair.

Harry turned back to Petunia.

“Did you call me just to meet your aunt?” he asked, and he sounded a little amused. Petunia nodded, and Harry laughed.

“Did vampires kill my sister?” Auntie Tuney asked. She was gripping the arms of her chair very hard. 

Harry looked at her for a moment.

“Yes,” he said simply. Auntie Tuney’s face crumpled.

“Oh, _curse_ Lily! I _told_ her that getting involved with magic that wasn’t her own was a bad idea!”

“For a wonder, you’re right,” said Harry, and Auntie Tuney sat up very straight and snapped, “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

Harry only smiled a smile that wasn’t very nice – and all of him smiled, even the dozens of mouths, making Petunia’s hair stand on end at the sight – and said, “In my world, Lily was the only one with magic. Not you. You never forgave her for it, and when my parents died, and you were the only one who could take care of me, you took all your frustrations out on me instead.”

Auntie Tuney stared at him.

“But – I wouldn’t!”

“Perhaps not,” said Harry, with a shrug. “But another version of you would. I never did quite manage to forgive Aunt Petunia, even if I patched things up with Dudley in the end.”

Harry conjured another armchair, a big red one this time, and sat in it. Before he sat down, Petunia saw that the armchair had a big golden lion across the back cushions.

“I like your chair,” she told Harry.

“You can sit on it too, if you want,” Harry suggested, and so Petunia climbed up into his lap and squeezed into the space between him and the arm of the chair. The chair was soft and comfortable.

Auntie Tuney was still staring.

“It’s rude to stare, Auntie Tuney,” said Petunia.

“Yeah, Auntie Tuney, it’s rude to stare,” said Harry, grinning.

Auntie Tuney glared at him, her nostrils flaring, and said, “What are you? Why does Petunia call you a monster?”

Harry was silent for a moment. Then:

“Because I stopped being human a long time ago, and Petunia can see my true form.”

“He’s got lots of tentacles and teeth and things,” added Petunia. “He ate the vampires that wanted to kidnap me, except for the one he let go.”

“I am… what some worlds refer to as an ‘Outsider,’” said Harry. “I was summoned from beyond this world to do the bidding of a rather nasty warlock. Unfortunately for him,” and Harry smiled the not-very-nice smile again, “I’m somewhat particular about whose wishes I follow. He lived just long enough to regret summoning me here.”

Auntie Tuney gripped the arms of her chair, looking pale again.

“Was he a bad man?” Petunia asked.

“Very bad,” Harry said dryly. 

“Did you eat him?” Petunia wanted to know, and Harry made a face.

“I don’t actually eat people most of the time, Petunia. It was just easier, while I was in my true form.”

“Why did vampires kill my sister? And what did they want with my niece?” asked Auntie Tuney. 

Harry sighed, and said, “Petunia, Dudley, why don’t you go play in Dudley’s room?”

“But I want to listen,” Petunia protested.

“Me too,” said Dudley, who had been listening with wide-eyed fascination.

“Upstairs!” said Auntie Tuney. “Now!”

“Aww,” said Dudley, but got out of his miniature armchair.

“Go on,” said Harry, lifting Petunia under the arms and lowering her from the armchair to the floor. “I won’t go anywhere without telling you, I promise.”

“Alright, then,” Petunia said, and took Dudley’s hand. “But only because Dudley has dinosaurs.”

Harry smiled at that, and Petunia darted one last glance at her aunt, who still looked disturbed and pale, before she followed Dudley up the stairs.

* * *

A little while later Auntie Tuney called Dudley and Petunia down for afternoon tea, which was just as well, because Petunia’s stomach had been rumbling for some time, and Dudley was always hungry.

When they got downstairs Harry was sitting in the kitchen, while Auntie Tuney placed bowls with fruit salad down at the little plastic table where Petunia and Dudley usually ate, being too short to sit at the grown-ups’ table. Auntie Tuney’s face was red and puffy, like she’d been crying.

“Are you okay, Auntie Tuney?” Petunia asked, and Dudley looked up from his fruit salad to look at his mother in concern.

“I’m fine,” said Auntie Tuney, trying to smile. It didn’t quite work.

“Your aunt was just a little bit upset by the vampires, that’s all,” said Harry. “But don’t worry. I told her that I’ll stop them all from coming after you.”

“All of them?” asked Petunia. 

“All of them,” Harry agreed, his expression serious. “And after that I’ll probably hang around for a while, until you’re old enough to look after yourself, just in case I missed any. In the meantime, your aunt is going to talk to your grandmother about teaching you about magic, once you’re a little bit older.”

“What about me?” Dudley demanded.

“I’ll teach you,” said Auntie Tuney. “But Petunia… if Petunia’s friend is right, Petunia is going to need to learn a lot more than I can teach her, Dudley. Granny knows a lot more than I do about magic.”

“Why can’t you teach me?” Petunia asked Harry. 

He smiled.

“My magic is a bit different from yours,” he said. “But if you still want to learn once you’re old enough, I can teach you a thing or two.”

“I will not have my niece learning arcane magics from – from an eldritch abomination!” Auntie Tuney said, her voice shrill. “I forbid it!”

“Fair enough,” said Harry. “But someday she’s going to be too old for you to forbid her to do anything, and if she still wants to learn then, I’m not going to say no.”

Harry’s voice was friendly enough, but firm. Petunia was pretty sure he wasn’t going to budge. Auntie Tuney seemed to sense the same thing, because she sagged a bit.

“Human beings aren’t meant for that kind of knowledge,” she said.

“Ah, but Petunia isn’t wholly a human being, and never was – she was born with all the gifts of a future Vampire Queen, remember,” said Harry. “And the vampires in this world are very far from human. I’m betting that by the time she’s old enough to really want to learn, Petunia’s going to need to know what I have to teach her.” 

With that, Harry stood, and pulled the hood of his cloak back over his head. 

“And now, I really should be going, before the rest of my prey becomes too difficult to find.” He looked at Petunia, but she couldn’t read his expression because of the hood in the way, obscuring his face. “Take care, Petunia, and remember: call me if anything bad or strange comes after you.”

“I remember,” said Petunia.

Harry vanished with a _pop_.

“I told you he was a friendly monster,” said Petunia to Auntie Tuney.

Auntie Tuney laughed. It was just this side of hysterical.

“You’re very, very lucky that he is,” was all that Auntie Tuney said. 


End file.
